


is it cool that i said all that?

by intertwinedsouls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Birthday, Drabble, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, No Angst, Not Epilogue Compliant, Person of Color Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 07:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15165818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwinedsouls/pseuds/intertwinedsouls
Summary: “Mind if I join you?” Draco asks him, sitting down before Harry can respond.Harry raises an eyebrow. “What if I had said no?” Draco’s eyes twinkle, and Harry swears he can see galaxies in them. “I knew you wouldn’t.”(Harry celebrates a birthday, and Draco gives him a lovely gift.)





	is it cool that i said all that?

**Author's Note:**

> this was the prompt I chose for sim!: Harry's friends throw him a birthday party and invite Draco (maybe because they've been working together or because they have been friendlier or because they are proper friends, up to you!) and Draco's gift is so super thoughtful (maybe something Harry mentioned once very fleetingly or something) that Harry feels all warm inside and shows Draco how much he appreciates the gift and kisses him (which Draco very much enjoys)
> 
> I really hope this does your idea justice, as soon as I read it I immediately knew the gift I was going with so I really hope you enjoy :-) I'm a bit nervous, as I haven't finished a fic in years and this is my first finished/published drarry/hp fic so yes but I was very excited to be apart of this and had a lot of fun writing it!! 
> 
> for some reason i couldn't stop listening to delicate by tswift whilst writing this so. hence the title

 

Harry is a bit stressed.

Maybe even a lot stressed.

There are clothes strewn all over his bed, and Harry has no idea what “wear something nice” means, which is exactly what Hermione told him that morning before she swept off to work, her Unspeakable robes billowing out behind her.

Harry feels that, as the birthday boy, he really should be allowed to get away with wearing whatever he wants; which usually means joggers, an old Weasley jumper and some sneakers. But Harry is also very aware that Draco will be there tonight, who turns up to everything dressed to the nines, even if it is just to go get groceries. He really wonders how Draco makes fashion look so flawless and easy, when Harry barely even knows what colours look good together.

There’s nothing wrong with being late to your own party, Harry decides, as he struggles to get on a pair of jeans he normally wears when going clubbing. Finally he chooses a mustard sweater that Ginny says suits his darker skin tone, and puts on the fancy leather shoes Draco forced him to get for a work event they attended together.

“Are you going to do something about the birds nest on top of your head?” Harry hears his mirror say, tutting behind him, and he rolls his eyes. Turning around, he grabs a hair tie from his dresser and pulls his hair into a messy bun.

“Happy?”

The mirror tuts again. “What will the Malfoy boy think, hm?”

Harry throws a sock at it.

//

By the time Harry gets to Hermione and Ron’s place, there’s already quite a crowd of all their friends. Hermione greets him at the door, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You look so handsome!” she tells him, as Ron comes up to clap him on the back.

As soon as they get to the living room, someone in the group announces his arrival - Harry thinks it was the sound of Seamus’ Irish lilt - and everyone looks to him with big smiles on their faces, yelling out various cheers of “Happy birthday Harry!” and “Harry’s here!”. Harry feels his face heat up, never used to the attention and immense amount of love his friends show, particularly when tipsy. He smiles shyly, waving his hands to calm everyone down.

“Stop being so modest Potter,” An amused voice comes from the helm, and Harry turns to spot Draco who winks at him before sipping on the champagne flute he’s holding.

Harry tries not to blush harder.

//

Interestingly enough, despite bulking up during his time at the Auror’s, Harry’s tolerance for alcohol stays incredibly low. He feels it hit him after only his third glass of beer, and despite staying hydrated and eating quite a lot of chips, the slight tipsiness starts to creep in anyway.

It becomes very apparent when Harry joins Ginny and George in singing very loudly along to Candy Shop, because Hermione had insisted on playing Muggle music. Harry had privately agreed that Muggle music was superior to any of the magic world’s music. The song ends with all three of them dancing quite ridiculously, and Harry feeling slightly dizzy and drunk on happiness.

“Gonna go outside for a tic,” Harry says to them, but the pair are already dancing to the next song as he slips out the backdoor and into Hermione and Ron’s back garden. He sits on the very edge of their small deck, looking out at the rose bushes that he and Ron had definitely planted wrong, their little stems crooked amongst the dirt.

It’s quite cool for a summer’s night, and there’s a nice breeze which helps ease the shakiness and tipsy feeling Harry can feel coursing through his veins. The door slides open behind him, and Harry doesn’t even have to look to know who it is, when he hears the click clack of dress shoes against the decking.

“Mind if I join you?” Draco asks him, sitting down before Harry can respond.

Harry raises an eyebrow. “What if I had said no?” Draco’s eyes twinkle, and Harry swears he can see galaxies in them.

 “I knew you wouldn’t.”

Harry sighs, but doesn’t disagree.

A silence falls over them, both of them watching the sky and the stars, the moon watching over them peacefully.

“I finished the report on the Higgin’s case by the way,” Draco says suddenly. “A gift from me to you on your birthday, since I know you hate paperwork.”

“Hey, no work talk on my birthday,” Harry replies, and pauses. “Wait, is that really your present to me? No fancy cufflinks or anything?”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Potter really, I got you cufflinks last year. I would _never_ gift repeat, who do you think I am?” He passes Harry a large parcel from beside him, beautifully wrapped in emerald green paper and a silver ribbon tied around it. Harry scoffs.

“Green? Really?”

“To match your eyes of course,” Draco says innocently, but the gleam in his eyes tell Harry otherwise.

“Sure sure, you snake.”

Harry unwraps the gift gently, to reveal a thick leather bound book, with his initials etched in gold on the cover. Curiously, he opens to the first page and inhales sharply. His mother and father are staring back at him, with Sirius and Remus either side of them, arms around each other and laughing at the camera. Harry looks at Draco questioningly, who seems slightly nervous.

“I remember a while back you told me that Hagrid gave you a photo album in first year, but that you lost it during the war,” Draco tells him, and Harry turns the first page to see even more photos, of his parents, of Sirius, of Remus, of his grandparents.

“So I contacted Andromeda, and my mother, to see if they had any photos of Lupin and Sirius, or if they knew anyone who would. Andromeda had quite a few, most of which she inherited from Lupin after he passed,” Draco continues. “I’m surprised he never showed you, but then again you were always too busy off saving the world.”

Harry snorts, but his eyes feel a lot wetter than usual. He keeps flipping the pages, to see more and more photos of his family that he has never seen before, their smiling faces gazing up at him, almost as if they know it’s Harry looking back at them. The lump in his throat gets heavier for each picture.

“I also went through the attic in Grimmauld Place,” Draco says, and Harry glances back at him, eyebrows raised. “I know. Kreacher was ecstatic to have the Black bloodline in its rightful place, as he told me many, many times.”

Harry notices a transition from photos of his parents, to photos of his friends, Teddy and the Weasley’s. He grins tearily at the many hair colour changes Teddy displays throughout the album, at the polaroids Arthur Weasley had so proudly learnt how to take, at all the images of himself with Ron and Hermione, teaching themselves how to be adults fresh out of school and war.

Suddenly though, the photographs stop, and there’s only blank pages left.

“I left those for you to keep adding pictures of in the future, for when you have your own family,” Draco says softly.

Harry stares at the book, long and hard, silence falling between them again. He breathes out heavily, and turns to look at Draco.

Draco’s eyes widen when he sees the unshed tears in Harry’s. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, this was so inappropriate. I’m so sorry for overstepping I just remember you saying you had no family photographs, but of course that would be a sore spot. I didn’t think, I’m so sorry, I can get you something else if you would like-”

Harry cuts him off. “Draco, be quiet.”

Draco falls silent, watching as Harry gently places the photo album beside him.

“The only other thing I could possibly want is you so. I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright,” Harry tells him, and Draco doesn’t even get the chance to nod before Harry is leaning in. Their lips meet, and Harry feels a rush of longing and emotion, his whole body on fire as he feels Draco relaxing into the kiss, his hands reaching up to cup Harry’s face so so gently, their lips moving together in a way that makes Harry’s head spin. The dizziness is back with a vengeance, but it’s a _good_ dizziness, it’s so damn good and Harry really hopes they keep doing this forever, feels like he's wanted it for forever.

Harry pulls away first, resting his forehead on Draco’s, breathing heavily, and can’t fight the bright smile that makes its way onto his face (he doesn’t _want_ to fight it, couldn’t fight it if he tried).

Draco is staring back at him, a stunned look on his face. “Oh.”

Harry laughs softly. “So...that future you mentioned?”

Draco seems to shake himself from the initial shock, his face flitting to what Harry knows well as his sarcasm face. “Presumptuous much Potter? You’re not _that_ good of a kisser.” Not even a second passes before Draco grins at him. “As long as I’m on the left in all photos, that’s my good side.”

Harry nods. “Deal.” And leans in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much, comments & kudos are greatly appreciated! <3


End file.
